Getting Closer
by Vol lady
Summary: This story stands alone but is connected to The Perfumed Letter and The Boy Who Looks Like Me. Someone is after Heath now, and the Barkley men are getting more concerned about finding out who is behind everything.
1. Chapter 1

Getting Closer

Chapter 1

Summer, 1879

Heath loved sunrises, more than any other time of day, so when he had been riding herd all night and the glow behind the eastern mountains began to color the sky, he always began to feel his heart lifting. He never could explain why he felt that way – he couldn't connect it to a childhood memory or anything else that had happened in his life. He just loved it.

Nick, on the other hand, saw something entirely different when the sun began to rise. "Breakfast!"

Riding next to him, Heath laughed. "I swear, Nick, except for your misadventures with the ladies, you have no romance in your soul at all."

"Too hungry for romance," Nick said. "Besides, I have to go back to the house and work on the books. Kills any idea of romance."

"Well, there's romance and then there's romance. One of these days, you and I will have to have a long talk about the difference."

"As long as we have it on full stomachs," Nick said and turned his horse toward the chuck wagon.

Heath followed along and soon they were settling in with coffee, bacon and eggs. One by one the men riding night herd joined them, as the day men came in to take their places minding the cattle.

"You going into the house with me?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, I could use a few hours of sleep," Heath said. "We'll have to be right back out here tonight."

"You will," Nick said. "I'll be going over the books with Jarrod, assuming he makes it in from San Francisco today. I'll decide later whether I'll come back out for night guard."

"I didn't realize Jarrod was coming."

"He wired me the day before yesterday. You can handle things without me out here if I sleep in tonight."

"It'll be boring without you, Big Brother."

Nick grinned. "I just brighten everybody's day, don't I?"

Heath chuckled. "Depending on whether you have a full belly or not."

They finished breakfast, turned everything over to the foreman McCall who had just come into camp, and rode back to the house together. It took less than an hour – the herd was not that far away. When they got near the house, they ran into their sister coming out.

"Good morning!" she called, reining in her horse.

"Out early this morning, aren't you?" Nick said.

"Just felt like an early morning ride. It's going to get hot later, I think. I'll see you in a couple hours," Audra said and took off.

Nick and Heath rode into the stable yard and turned their horses over to the stable hands there. They dusted themselves off and went into the house. Nick did not have to yell for his mother for once – she was arranging flowers on the table in the foyer.

"Morning, Mother," Heath said and kissed her cheek.

Nick did the same right behind him.

"You both need to shave," she said.

"Heading that way," Nick said.

"I'll sleep a couple hours and then shave," Heath said. "I'm about to fall out of the saddle."

"You're not in the saddle," Nick said.

"Well, there you go," Heath said and went upstairs.

Once alone in his room, Heath took off his boots and began to get out of his dirty clothes. Never one to allow sunlight to bother his sleep, he fell on his bed with the shutters open and immediately faded off.

When he woke up, it was about noon. He shaved, as promised, cleaned up and got into some clean clothes before he went downstairs. He found his mother and sister, and both his brothers, lunching in the dining room.

"Well, good afternoon," Jarrod said as he was finishing up his own midday meal.

Heath sat down. "Afternoon. Good to see you again, Jarrod. Good trip in from San Francisco?"

"Nice and quiet and on time," Jarrod said.

"How was your ride, Audra?" Heath asked.

"Lovely," she said. "The air was nice and fresh this morning."

Heath dug into the fried chicken on the table. "Sorry I'm a bit late. I guess I needed more sleep than I thought."

"Riding night guard seems to set your internal clock off every time," Victoria said.

"Sure did today."

"Jarrod and I still have to go over the books," Nick said. "I'll head back out after dinner."

"I'll go back out after lunch," Heath said. "Be back for dinner."

Heath gobbled down his lunch and was out the door after appropriate good-byes. In less than an hour, he was back out with the herd.

It was getting hot, as Audra predicted. Hot and dry. There hadn't been a good rain for weeks, but at least the water supply for the herd was still good. What Heath worried about was the orchards and the crop put in for winter feed. If it didn't start raining soon, those could be in trouble.

McCall pulled up to Heath as soon as he saw him. "Afternoon, Heath."

"Howdy," Heath said. "How's it going out here?"

"Fine, fine. I'm planning to send a few men out to check on the other water supplies, just in case."

There were several other ponds and streams on the property, at other locations, that they could use in a pinch, if they were still in good shape. "Good idea," Heath said. "Tell you what. I'll go check on Marino Creek myself, be back before you can sneeze twice."

McCall laughed as Heath took off toward the east. That boy had more colorful expressions than you could shake a stick at, and McCall had the suspicion that he made most of them up by himself.

Heath took off at an easy gallop. As he moved through the hot air, he felt cooler and happier. He pictured Marino Creek and the cool, clear water he could wash over his head and neck. No better way to accomplish a chore.

The creek was down a bit, but since the winter snowpack had been good, it was still just fine for what they needed. Heath dismounted near a nice set of rapids that he particularly liked and knelt down there. He scooped water up with his hands and with his hat and poured it all over his head and neck, enjoying the coolness running down his back and chest.

He took a hatful of water and put his hat on his head, then remounted and took off back toward the herd.

He did not get far. Someone, somewhere, took a shot at him.

His horse reared and Heath went tumbling off. He rolled into some rocks for cover and looked all around for any sign of who had fired at him. But there was plenty of cover for an assailant – trees to the west and south, a big rock outcropping toward the east, further upstream.

Heath saw nothing – not a reflection of light off metal, not movement through the trees or the rocks, not a thing. With a big sigh, he saw that his horse had not run far before it stopped to nibble some grass. Could he get to it?

He tried. Someone fired, and Heath scampered back into his rock cover.

He sighed, and looked, and sighed again. Now what?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"So," Heath said to everyone at the dinner table, "I just hunkered down until McCall sent a couple men to see what had happened to me."

"And no more shooting? No one tried to get closer?" Victoria asked.

"Not that I saw," Heath said. "Whoever it was, if they tried to get closer, they didn't make it, and when my help arrived, they scurried off."

"Like the rat they were," Nick grumbled.

"Has anyone been threatening you lately, Heath?" Jarrod asked. "Anybody in town or among the hands?"

Heath shook his head. "Not a soul. I have no idea what this is about."

"I've doubled the guard here, and ladies, I don't want either of you leaving the house without an escort," Nick said.

Audra nodded, and Victoria did as well, but she sighed. "Do you realize this is the third time we've gone into a siege in less than three years? First there was Melanie Palmer after Nick, then that Timmons fellow after Jarrod, and now this."

"And we never have found out who was really behind any of them," Audra said.

"Hmph," Jarrod said. "It's time we started digging a bit deeper. Someone after each of us in so short a time period – could be coincidence, but I doubt it. I'll go into town and wire my Pinkerton contact this evening."

"Take a guard," Nick said, and then glared at his older brother, knowing Jarrod would not like the idea.

"Fifty yards back," Jarrod said. His standard plan for any protection he had to take off the property. He never wanted anyone else getting killed on his account.

Nick nodded.

"It's worse than that, Nick," Heath said. "The attack on me happened on our property. You and I both need to go with guards, too, and we all need to do it even on the property."

Nick nodded. "You're right."

Jarrod wiped his mouth with his napkin and backed away form the table. "Who do you want me to take, Nick?"

"Ciego for now, I guess," Nick said, "since you're so set on leaving tonight."

"I'm a harder target in the dark," Jarrod said with half a grin, and as he got up, he said, "I'll be home in a couple of hours." He kissed his mother's forehead. "Don't worry."

As Jarrod went out the door, Victoria said quietly, "Easier said than done."

"Don't worry, Mother," Heath said. "We'll get to the bottom of it this time."

Victoria leveled her gaze at him. "We don't know for sure that the same person is behind all three."

"No," Nick said, "but I'm with Jarrod on this. Three times in less than three years, two of them hired killers and I'll bet you any kind of money we're looking at another hired killer after Heath. That's too much for a coincidence."

"I would feel more comfortable if the two of you did not ride night herd tonight," Victoria said.

"We'll have plenty of guards with us, Mother," Heath said. "And Jarrod's right – we'll be tougher targets in the dark."

"But be careful," Audra said, her voice almost cracking with worry.

Nick gave her a wink. "My middle name."

XXXXXXX

Jarrod went to town and back without incident, leaving Victoria to worry only about Nick and Heath on night guard. But she only allowed herself a few minutes of worry. She'd learned many years ago that worry never accomplished anything. The men in her life were going to do what they were going to do, and that was only right. If she and Tom Barkley had allowed worry to govern their lives, they would never have accomplished a thing.

Out with the herd, Nick and Heath were sitting down to coffee. Nick had been pretty quiet, thinking. It always worried Heath when Nick started thinking. "Say it out loud, Nick," Heath said.

"The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced whoever's after you is hired, and that all these attacks we've had over the last couple years are connected. I'm betting somebody's hiring people trying to pick us off one by one, and they just didn't have any luck with me and Jarrod."

"Well, if that's so, this somebody does a pretty poor job of picking killers. Don't worry, Nick. We're taking the right precautions. Nobody's gonna get me, either."

Nick looked over at his brother. "Ever heard of 'third time's a charm'?"

Heath looked back. "No, but I like baseball, and I've heard of 'three strikes, you're out.'"

"Baseball, huh?"

"Played it a lot when I was in the army. Didn't you?"

"Not enough."

XXXXXX

The sunrise was beautiful again the next morning. In a way, Heath wished it was overcast and was going to rain, but it wasn't. They would have to live with that. In the meantime, he decided to relax, watching the colors change as the sun approached the horizon, then enjoying the fingers of light that began to shine on him as the sun came up.

So far, no shots were fired at him. Heath wondered if there was an element of safety while he was with the herd. Maybe whoever was after him was not interested in anything that might spook the cattle into stampeding. Seemed like a smart idea, really – why risk killing more men than the one you were hired to kill?

So maybe the person trying to kill him was intelligent – that was a chilling thought.

Nick was already digging into breakfast when Heath got to the chuck wagon. "Nice and quiet this morning," Heath said.

"So far," Nick agreed. "You coming back to the house with me, or are you staying here?"

"I'll go in with you. You still doing books?"

"No, I just want some sleep time in my bed. We'd better keep our eyes open while we go in, you know."

"I know. You think we ought to adopt Jarrod's way of doing this – you stay fifty yards or so behind me?"

Nick shrugged. "Might increase our chances of spotting the guy, but it also increases the chances he'll shoot you."

"Sooner or later he's gonna try it again anyway," Heath said. "Might as well be with you keeping an eye on me from pretty far back. Worked with Timmons, after all."

Nick remembered. The contract killer who had tried to get Jarrod last year was stopped when he and Heath had followed Jarrod by fifty yards and spotted him taking the shot at their older brother. True, Jarrod had been hurt in the fall from his horse, but not badly, and he was still alive. Nick nodded. "Okay, I'll lay fifty yards or so behind you and keep an eye out, but you keep an eye out, too, and if you spot something, you hit the dirt."

"Sounds like a plan."

It would have been a good one, too, but no one took a shot at Heath. He and Nick rode into the stable yard without any incident of any kind.

Ciego took their horses, saying, "No problems today?"

"Not one," Nick said.

"Bueno," Ciego said.

Nick and Heath went into the house, finding Jarrod wandering through the foyer toward the library. "Hey, I'm glad I caught you," Jarrod said, stopping.

"Something from Pinkerton?" Nick asked.

"Not yet," Jarrod said, "but I had another thought. Heath, what do you think, you and I go to San Francisco and pay Melanie Palmer a visit?"

"At San Quentin?" Nick said, sounding alarmed.

"She's not gonna hurt either one of us there," Heath said. "I think you might have an idea."

"She never did give up the person who hired her," Nick said. "What makes you think she'd give him up now?"

"I was thinking we might stop off at Sacramento first and let me visit the governor," Jarrod said.

"You're not thinking about a pardon!" Nick sounded even more alarmed.

"No, no, not a full pardon," Jarrod said, "but maybe shortening her sentence. She got life. Maybe if we can dangle something like 25 years in front of her, she'd give us a name."

"I think you're out of your mind," Nick said.

"Wait a minute, Nick, it's not a bad idea," Heath said.

"Yeah, you'll be dead in 25 years anyway," Jarrod said with a grin.

Nick glared at him. "You'll be dead in five minutes if your not careful. Do what you want, but I think you're both crazy. What did Mother think of the idea?"

"She thought it might be worth a try," Jarrod said. "I know, Nick, you have a different stake in this, seeing as it was you she was trying to kill, but by the time she gets out, she won't have any reason to threaten you anymore. Her contract's over already."

"All right, do what you want, just keep me out of it," Nick said. "I'm tired and I'm gonna hit my bed."

Nick trudged on upstairs. His brothers gave him a look, but then they looked at each other. They had the same thought, that Heath verbalized. "Let's do it."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next day, Jarrod and Heath rode to Stockton – Jarrod riding about fifty yards behind Heath. There were no incidents. They both felt like they were reliving the attacks on Jarrod, increasing the notion that the attack on Heath was related to the attacks on both his brothers. Maybe Nick didn't think that, but they suspected he would come around to it before very long.

Jarrod wired ahead for a brief appointment with the governor, but there had been no reply before they left Stockton. Boarding the train, they each looked around carefully at who else was boarding, well aware they could be followed and there might be an attack on the train on Heath, or Jarrod or both of them for that matter.

But the trip was uneventful. When they reached Sacramento, they checked into their hotel and then went to the telegraph office. A message was waiting there for Jarrod.

"The governor will see us tomorrow morning," Jarrod read the message out loud.

"Us?" Heath said. "You want me to go with you?"

"Sure. The governor ought to meet the man he's rescuing, don't you think?"

Heath shook his head. A poor kid from a played out mining town, and here he was about to meet the governor.

"You don't think so?" Jarrod interpreted Heath's body language.

"No, that's not it," Heath said. "Just – can't believe I'm gonna be meeting the governor."

Jarrod chuckled and clapped him on the arm. "Don't worry, he's a pretty ordinary man. We'll spend the first ten seconds explaining how the family is, the next ten seconds telling him about this year's vintage, and then a minute getting the sentence reduction out of him."

"You seem pretty sure we'll get it."

"We'll get it."

Jarrod fired off another wire to his Pinkerton contact in San Francisco, explaining where he was and that he would be traveling to San Francisco the next day.

They spent the rest of the day touring Jarrod's haunts, the places he'd visit when in Sacramento in order to collect information about the legislature and the other political goings-on. Heath was pretty sure this was not the life for him, but Jarrod was getting a kick playing the older brother showing his kid brother around. They spent all day hitting bars and hotel lobbies and even the halls of the legislature. Jarrod was picking up nuggets of information for other purposes. Heath was trying not to be overly bored.

They had dinner at one of Sacramento's finer restaurants, which Heath enjoyed quite a bit. Following after dinner drinks in Jarrod's club and a lot more talking politics with men Heath did not know but Jarrod knew too well, they returned to their hotel suite. Heath crashed on the sofa as soon as they came in the door.

"Big Brother," Heath sighed, "I don't know how you live this life. I'd want to strangle half the men we ran into today."

Jarrod laughed. "I do want to strangle them. But these characters have helped me train my temper and get it back under control, plus I've picked up some information I can use in the future."

When they came into the hotel, Jarrod had picked up a wire from his Pinkerton contact. He took his coat off and loosened his tie, then opened the telegram.

"Anything?" Heath asked.

Jarrod put the telegram in his pants pocket. "No, not yet. I'll wire them back in the morning after we see the governor, tell them we'll be visiting Miss Palmer. Maybe they'll be able to dig up something in her background we can use if we need to."

Jarrod flopped down in a nearby chair. For a while, they just sat in silence, each of them doing his own thinking through a bit of an alcohol fog.

"What time is it?" Heath finally asked.

Jarrod took out his pocket watch and checked. "Nearly ten."

"Reckon we ought to get to bed," Heath said.

Jarrod put his watch away. "Yep."

"What time are we seeing the governor?"

"Eight-thirty."

There was more silence, but neither of them moved. Heath finally asked, "Do you live like this every time you come up here?"

"Pretty much," Jarrod said.

More silence, and then Heath said, "It'll be the death of you, you know."

Jarrod chuckled. "Maybe, but lately we all have to worry about somebody getting us first, don't we?"

"Maybe we won't have to worry for long. You gonna get up first, or should I?"

Jarrod dragged himself to his feet. "Goodnight, Little Brother," he said and wandered to his room.

"Goodnight, Jarrod," Heath said, and stayed where he was for a while.

XXXXX

Promptly at eight-thirty the next morning, Jarrod and Heath presented themselves at the governor's office. Told he was running a bit late, they sat down and waited, giving Heath a chance to look around at all the executive luxury in the office. Wood paneling that was a cut above what the Barkley mansion had, furniture that was of a finer mahogany that Heath had ever seen, a secretary with equipment that Heath couldn't fathom, curtains of the finest brocade – Heath was impressed, but he thought it a bit overdone, until he figured that if you were going to present as a man of power, you had to do exactly this sort of thing. Heath felt a bit like the orphan at the picnic for a moment, not a member of one of the most powerful families in northern California, until he looked at his older brother. Jarrod was perfectly at home in this atmosphere, and Jarrod was perfectly at home with him. Heath remembered feeling this way during their trip to New York together – a bit like the hick, but safe with the older brother who was showing him around like he belonged here.

The governor's door opened only a few minutes later, and a man walked out and headed for the outer door. He gave Jarrod a nod, saying, "Barkley," to which Jarrod replied with a nod and a "Stevens." And the man left.

Heath got the feeling Jarrod and Stevens were not that fond of each other, but before he could ask about it, the governor appeared at his door. Jarrod got up, so Heath did, too.

"Jarrod! Come on in!" the governor said and went back into his office.

Jarrod ushered Heath ahead of him and went into the governor's office, closing the door behind them as the governor took a seat behind his desk. This room was even more opulent – leather furniture, more mahogany. Heath tried not to gawk. He and Jarrod approached the governor's desk and sat down at chairs set before it.

"Governor, I'd like you to meet my brother, Heath Barkley," Jarrod said as he took a seat.

"Nice to meet you, Heath," the governor said. "Jarrod's mentioned you several times. Welcome to Sacramento."

"Thank you," Heath said, deciding he was going to be as quiet as possible during this meeting.

"And how is that lovely mother of yours and the rest of your family?" the governor asked Jarrod.

"Everybody's fine," Jarrod said.

"And this year's vintage? Is it as promising as last year's turned out to be?"

"It looks even better."

"Wonderful, now what can I do for you today?"

Heath smiled a little. Jarrod was spot on as to how this conversation was going to go.

Jarrod leaned forward a bit. "We've had a recurring problem over the past couple years. Hired guns, out to get one or another of us. Two years ago it was Nick, last year it was me, now it's Heath. I think they're all connected, but we haven't been able to find out who's behind it all."

"Hired guns won't talk?" the governor said, sounding as if he was taking this more seriously than Heath expected him to.

"The one hired to kill me was killed before he could talk. The one after Heath we haven't caught yet. The one after Nick is in San Quentin, but she hasn't been willing to talk."

The governor's eyebrows went up. "She?"

"Her name is Melanie Palmer. She was given a life sentence for killing several other men and wouldn't talk. But we need to get her to talk. I'd like you to commute her sentence in exchange for the name of the person who hired her."

"Commute it how?"

"From life to 25 years. She's just shy of 25 herself. Give her 25 years without parole, and she'll be out at 50 – too old to take up her former profession, but young enough to still have a life. I think she might go for it and give us a name."

The governor looked at Heath. "Have there been attempts on your life recently, Heath?"

Heath nodded. "One, just this week."

"And you have no idea who is after you or why?"

"No, sir," Heath said.

The governor chewed on it. "The relatives of men she killed might not like it if I give her a sentence reduction."

Jarrod said, "Give me a commitment and I can get her to talk. It could mean saving the lives of my brother and even me and the rest of my family."

The governor looked at Jarrod and smiled. "You would be the one to get her to talk," he said. "All right, you've got it. Let me know how it comes out."

The governor stood and put his hand out to Jarrod, who stood and took it. Heath also stood and shook the governor's hand.

"Good to meet you, Heath," the governor said. "Here's wishing you a long and happy life."

"Thank you, sir," Heath said.

XXXXXX

They fetched their baggage at the hotel and headed for the train to San Francisco. What remained now was to get in to see Melanie Palmer, and as they waited for the train, Jarrod sent off a wire to have his Pinkerton man contact the warden at San Quentin and arrange a time. When Jarrod was finished sending the wire, he rejoined Heath, to find him shaking his head.

"What?" Jarrod asked.

"You, Big Brother," Heath said. "I used to think I walked around with one foot in one world and the other in another, but I realize now I just moved both feet from one world to the next. You – you got one foot in a cattle ranch and the other in the governor's office all the time, and you like it just fine."

Jarrod laughed. "You're right, I do. As soon as I get tired of one life, I can switch to the other."

"And if you had two more feet, you'd probably put one in the mean streets of New York and the other in the poker palaces in San Francisco."

Jarrod looked at his brother. "Anybody ever tell you you were pretty good at sizing people up?"

"Mother tells me that."

"That's because she is, too. She knows a kindred spirit when she sees one."

"Well, I missed completely on Melanie Palmer."

"She beguiled you, and as I recall, she beguiled me and Nick, too. All bets are off when a beautiful young lady is thrown into the mix."

"Do you really think you can get her to talk, Jarrod?"

"I think WE can get her to talk. You did have something with her that I didn't have."

"I thought I did. Maybe – "

"I think it might make a difference to her to find out that you're the one being targeted now. Between the two of us, I think we can find out what we want to know."

Heath nodded. "I hope you're right."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When they reached San Francisco, they stopped by Jarrod's office and found a wire from Pinkerton waiting for him.

"Tomorrow," Jarrod said. "We'll see Melanie tomorrow at ten."

Heath nodded, but he had to admit to himself that he was queasy about seeing her. He really wasn't sure why. He had no good feelings about her – maybe that was it. But at the same time, remembering the time they spent together before he found out who she really was made him smile inside. Maybe that was it – a contract killer could actually make him smile inside.

They spent the day settling into Jarrod's home and planning their meeting with Melanie, with a little sight seeing and eating out thrown in. The next day, they walked into San Quentin prison and were escorted to a small room with no windows that held only benches bolted to the wall. A single gaslight, very high and out of reach on the wall beside the door, was the only light source. The place was like a dungeon, dark and foreboding. Heath felt like ghosts would be coming out the gloom at any moment.

"This is gonna be tough," Heath said.

"Maybe not," Jarrod said. "We can offer her a light at the end of this ghastly tunnel. Wouldn't you take it?"

Heath nodded. "In a heartbeat, but I have a family and a home waiting for me on the outside. What does Melanie have?"

"I don't know. Maybe we can find out."

The door opened again, and Melanie Palmer, even smaller than she was before, looking older by 15 years rather than only two, came in. She was shackled by her arms and legs – the shackles hardly looked like they would stay on, her arms and legs were so thin. When she looked up at them, it was with haunted black eyes that did not know them at first. But then she smiled, small and ironic, not really a smile at all. Just another sham.

"Well, this is a surprise," she said.

Heath stared at her with nothing but compassion in his eyes. Even Melanie could tell he was genuinely hurt to see her like this. Jarrod, on the other hand, had the expression of a man who had seen this many times before. He had, because he was a criminal attorney. Nothing he saw in San Quentin would shock him anymore.

Heath said, "Hello, Melanie. Thanks for seeing us."

Melanie sat down on one of the benches nearest the light. Heath sat down on her left but out of arm's reach, while Jarrod remained standing, leaning back against the intersecting wall to Melanie's right. She would have to keep looking back and forth as they spoke to her – if she would look at them at all.

"Melanie, we've come to you with a proposition," Jarrod said.

She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Let me guess. You want me to tell you who hired me to kill your brother. What happened? Did somebody finally get to him?"

Jarrod's eyes flashed at the sneer in her voice, but Heath said gently, "No. Someone has tried to get to me."

Melanie looked at him, without the raised eyebrow, without the sneer. She seemed genuinely surprised and genuinely sorry. "Well," she said quietly. "You think whoever hired me is after you now."

Heath nodded.

Melanie looked back to Jarrod. "What's your proposition?"

"The name of the man who hired you in return for a reduced sentence," Jarrod said.

"Reduced how?"

"From life to 25 years."

She laughed out loud. "That's not much of a deal, Counselor."

"It's better than what you're looking at now," Jarrod said. "It's a way out of here. You don't have any way out right now."

"Why should I believe you could deliver on that?"

"I've already seen the governor and gotten the commitment."

Melanie looked surprised at that, and turned to look at Heath. It seemed to the Barkley men that she would not believe Jarrod, but she would believe Heath. Heath thought that maybe there was something genuine there, that something genuine had happened between them two years earlier.

"He's telling you the truth, Melanie," Heath said. "You would be out of here before you turn 50. You'd still have a chance at a life."

"Well, I'd certainly have to find another profession," she said. The men could tell she was running through things in her mind. What could she do if she were released in 25 years? She had never known an honest life, never. "If I take this deal you're offering me, what will there be for me on the outside when I get out? Are you willing to help me get a new start?" She looked up at Jarrod for an answer.

Jarrod said, "I might not be around in 25 years, but if I am, yes, I will help you get started again."

"And I would try, too," Heath said.

Melanie looked at him.

Heath said, "Nobody knows what life will be like in 25 years or which of us will be here. If you don't give us a name, there's a good chance that I won't be here – that Jarrod and Nick won't be here either."

"So that's why you're here wanting the name now," Melanie said. "It's not just you, Heath. Someone's come after each of you, maybe your mother and Audra, too, huh?"

"We don't know who's behind these attacks or what they want," Jarrod said. "But if you give us a name and we can stop him, whoever of the Barkleys is still alive in 25 years, I promise you, we'll help you get a new start."

Melanie looked at the floor and smiled again. "Did you figure out I'm not really from Baltimore? I've never been east of Denver. There are no parents and no potential suitors waiting for me. There's no family, no friends. This life made me live secrets, nothing but secrets."

She fell silent, but they waited for her for more than a minute. If she was going to give them a name, it could come out at any moment. They did not want to interrupt the deep thinking she was obviously doing.

She looked up at Heath, smiling. "You know, I really did enjoy the time you and I spent together. I really did, honestly."

"So did I," Heath said. "Honestly."

She looked at the floor again. "Well, I'm not expecting any of you to wait around for me for 25 years – Jarrod, is that sentence reduction for real? Guaranteed?"

"For real, guaranteed," Jarrod said. "If you give us a name – and the real name. If you lie to us, the sentence reduction can be reversed."

Melanie smiled a little at him, then took a deep breath and let it out. Then she said, "Agatha Cromwell."

Jarrod straightened, and he and Heath looked at each other. Who in the world could this be?

Heath took hold of Melanie's hands. She looked up in surprise, at his beautiful blue eyes that had never held a secret to her, and didn't now. "Thank you," Heath said.

She smiled a little, and still looking at Heath, asked a question of Jarrod. "You'll get my sentence reduction taken care of?"

"Right away," Jarrod said.

Melanie squeezed Heath's hands and stood up. Heath stood up with her. She banged on the door for the guard to come and said, "Well, then, I guess I'll see you in 25 years."

XXXXXXX

As they left the prison, Heath stopped for a moment before getting into the hack that had come for them. He looked back at the awful, dark, depressing building, and he thought for a moment that he wished they could take Melanie out of here right away.

Jarrod seemed to read his mind. "She's in there for a reason, Heath. She killed several men. She tried to kill Nick. I don't know what you saw in her today, but I didn't see any remorse."

"No," Heath said, "I didn't see any either. I guess I just wonder what somebody could have done for her along the way – and I wonder what somebody DID do to her along the way. I wish her life could have been the one she invented for us."

Jarrod took Heath by the arm and moved him into the hack. They both heaved a big sigh as they took one last look at San Quentin prison. They might have been sighing for different reasons, but they shared one thing in common – they couldn't wait to get away from the place.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They went to Jarrod's office long enough to check for any new information from Pinkerton – there was none. Jarrod had his secretary send a message to Pinkerton saying they were returning to Stockton and he wanted Agatha Cromwell investigated. He also had her send a wire to the governor saying only, "We have a name. Please institute the sentence reduction for Melanie Palmer." Then they stopped by Jarrod's home long enough to reclaim their bags before catching a quick lunch near the train station and heading back to Stockton on the afternoon train.

They reached Stockton late in the afternoon, claimed their horses from the livery, and headed straight home. Just to be on the safe side, Jarrod held back about fifty yards, keeping an eye open for anyone who might be targeting Heath, but there was no one. They reached the house safely, left their horses with Ciego, and bordering on exhaustion, went into the house.

Victoria was in the parlor, playing the piano, when she heard them come in. She got up and met them in the foyer. They kissed her in greeting as she asked, "Did you have any luck?"

"Yes, we have a name, and Melanie Palmer has a sentence reduction to 25 years," Jarrod said.

"What name?" Victoria asked, totally uninterested in Melanie Palmer.

"Agatha Cromwell," Jarrod said.

"Cromwell," Victoria said thoughtfully, "I don't know anyone named Cromwell. Do you?"

Heath shrugged. "No. Jarrod's having Pinkerton investigate her. Ciego says there haven't been any problems around here while we were gone."

Victoria shook her head. "It's been perfectly quiet. Audra's gone to the orphanage – she has two guards with her. Nick is out with the herd."

"I think I want to change clothes," Heath said, heading upstairs with his bag.

Jarrod put his bag down hear the bottom of the stairs and simply loosened his tie as he took his mother's hand and went with her to the settee in the living room. "I think seeing Melanie again was a little surprising for Heath," he said quietly.

"Surprising?" Victoria asked as they sat down.

Jarrod nodded. "Either she was doing a fine acting job, or she really did feel something for him. And maybe he felt something for her."

Victoria sighed. "I don't know how he could have kept feelings for her after finding out she was here to kill Nick."

"I think that was the surprising part," Jarrod said. "He didn't expect to have them. And in any event it doesn't matter much now. She's in for at least 25 years. We did make a commitment that if we were around in 25 years when she got out, we would help her start a new life."

"Well," Victoria said, "since it's very unlikely that I'll be around in 25 years, I won't worry about it. That's your cross to bear."

Jarrod chuckled. "My darling Mother, whether you're around or not, you need not worry. It's much too far away, and frankly, I'm not sure SHE will be around in 25 years."

"She looked bad?"

"Terrible. I think that got to Heath, too."

"But not to you."

"She didn't mean as much to me, and besides, I've seen it plenty of times before. One of the prices I pay for being a criminal attorney. I have to see what places like San Quentin do to people."

Victoria kissed his hand. A lot of thoughts raced around in her mind – Agatha Cromwell, Melanie Palmer, San Quentin, 25 years from now, the threat facing Heath out there now. Jarrod saw them playing around in his mother's eyes, and he kissed her forehead.

"Don't you worry," he said. "We're getting to the bottom of this."

"I'd better see to dinner," she said, squeezed his hand, and got up.

He watched her walk away, then sighed with a bone-numbing fatigue and rubbed his aching forehead. He got rid of the private thoughts that had put the pain there, got up, and took his bag upstairs.

XXXXXXXXXXX

After breakfast the next morning, Jarrod and his bodyguard went into town while Heath went back out to work on the ranch with Nick. Neither of them had any trouble.

Heath's work went as normally as ever. They were moving the herd toward a bigger water supply. It was several miles and slow going, but Heath was just as happy about that. He was still tired from the trip with Jarrod, and it was good to feel relaxed. There were so many men around, he didn't give another thought to being attacked.

At his office in town, Jarrod received a telegram from his Pinkerton contact about Agatha Cromwell. She was a widow who lived on investments inherited from her late husband, a man named Alexander Carpenter. Carpenter had moved to California from New York, built an empire based on investments in various enterprises. No criminal record, either for Carpenter or Agatha. No reason given for Agatha's reversion to her maiden name after her husband's death, no information on where she might be now, no dates associated with her marriage or widowhood, but the promise of more information to come.

Jarrod's headache came back. There wasn't much help here at all. He wired back that he wanted information about any association Agatha might have had with any of the Barkleys, no matter how remote. He asked for the same for Alexander Carpenter. To get all that, Pinkerton would have to dig a lot deeper, and that would take time.

After taking care of that, Jarrod went to Sheriff Madden's office, his bodyguard still shadowing him but staying at so discrete a distance that Jarrod forgot he was there. Sheriff Madden was in his office, looking over wanted posters he had just received.

"Hello, Fred," Jarrod said.

"Jarrod. I don't have any news for you. If whoever took a shot at Heath is still around, he was pretty quiet while you were gone."

Jarrod sat down on the edge of a table. "Well, that figures, since we were gone. Is there anything in those wanted posters that might help?"

"I was just pondering that, but I don't think so. These are all robbery cases. What did you find out in San Francisco?"

"A woman named Agatha Cromwell hired Melanie Palmer to kill Nick."

The sheriff sat up. "Cromwell? Do you know any Cromwell? I don't."

Jarrod shook his head. "She's a widow – husband was someone named Alexander Carpenter, but that doesn't ring any bells for me either. I'm having Pinkerton investigate her and her husband more thoroughly."

It was just then that Nick came barging through the door, Heath right behind him and two more guards parked outside. Nick was red with anger – Heath was calm, but there was a fury in his eyes that he was nursing, and he didn't want anyone to see that he was nursing it.

Jarrod jumped up from his seat on the table. "What's happened?"

"Somebody took another shot at Heath," Nick said. "Hit Joey Cabot instead."

"Is he hurt bad?"

"He's dead."

"Did you catch the shooter?" Sheriff Madden asked.

"He was gone like a ghost," Heath said. "Nobody even got a look at him."

"I want to put out a reward on him," Nick said. "Somebody around here has to know something."

Sheriff Madden got the headache now. "All right, I'll take care of the poster, but without a description – "

"Forget the description!" Nick yelled. "Somebody has to have heard something! I'll take any information!"

Nick was heading right into the sheriff's face. Jarrod put his hand on Nick's chest to keep him back. "Fred, just put out something for anything leading to an arrest and conviction. Make it five thousand."

Sheriff Madden nodded. "No one else hurt?"

"No," Nick said.

"Do you want me to put out something for information on this Agatha Cromwell?"

"Not yet," Jarrod said. "If she's behind things, I don't want her getting wind that we know it."

Jarrod began to steer his brothers out of the office, with a nod of thanks to the sheriff. Once outside, they found their three bodyguards talking to each other, looking worried, looking upset about Joey Cabot. No wonder, Jarrod thought. Now they were in the gun sights, too.

Jarrod said, "Let's get a drink. Come on," he said to the guards. "I'm buying."

The six of them walked down the street together, but every one of them was looking around, very wary, even scared. Nothing happened.

In the saloon, Jarrod sat at a table with his brothers while the guards stayed at the bar. It was beer all around to ease the nerves, but how much they were going to ease was a good question.

Jarrod looked at his youngest brother and said, "You've been awful quiet, Heath."

Heath looked somber. "Joey Cabot," he said quietly. "Kid was only 19. He didn't have any family, nobody to care if he lived or died."

"We care," Jarrod said. "Did you take him to the undertaker?"

Nick nodded. "Mother and Audra don't know about it yet, unless the grapevine has gotten it to them."

"Maybe it would help if the two of you made all the necessary arrangements," Jarrod said.

Heath said, "Kid looked a little like me. The shooter might have thought he was hitting me."

Jarrod said, "If he's around here now, he already knows he hit the wrong man."

"He wasn't a man," Heath said. "He was just a boy, parents dead in a mining camp down to the southeast when he was only 14. On his own all these years. Quiet, kind, soft kind of kid. Just a kid."

Jarrod and Nick looked at each other. Heath was taking this very hard, probably because he was seeing himself at that age. "This wasn't your fault, Heath," Nick said.

"I know that," Heath said. "Doesn't mean I can't feel bad about it."

"We'll find him, Heath," Jarrod said, meaning the shooter. "This is gonna stop very soon."

Heath took a swig of his beer. "Yeah, it will."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Heath loved the sunrise, but not this one. It was an ugly gray, catching the low clouds on the mountains and ripping them up in long, thin shreds that turned into fingers and reached down toward him. Hands reaching toward him, but not to help. To hurt. To grab him by the throat and strangle the life out of him, just as the faceless enemy had torn the life out of Joey Cabot.

 _I will not let Joey's death be worthless,_ Heath told himself. Today he would find the man who was out to kill him, and he would use his own hands to strangle the truth out of him, the truth of who he was working for, the truth that he murdered Joey Cabot. The man would pay, today, for destroying Joey Cabot.

Heath had left the house while it was still dark, and he avoided using a guard. He wanted to attract whoever was after him. He wanted the man to come, and if he had to take a bullet to get him to do that, he would take it. It was going to end today.

XXXXXXXX

Nick caught Jarrod in the foyer as the lawyer was coming down to breakfast. "Heath is gone."

"What?" Jarrod asked. "What do you mean, he's gone?"

"I mean he snuck out sometime during the night and I don't think he took a guard with him. Stupid, stupid kid – "

Nick already had his gunbelt on. Jarrod went for his, hanging in the hallway. "Do Mother and Audra know?"

"I don't think they're up yet."

Jarrod strapped his gunbelt on, calling for Silas. The houseman came from the dining room where he was setting out breakfast.

"Silas, tell Mrs. Barkley and Audra that Nick and Heath and I got a tip and we left early," Jarrod said. "Tell them not to worry, we'll be back by dinner."

"All right, Mr. Barkley," Silas said. "You all be careful out there, please."

Jarrod smiled. "Don't worry. We'll be all right."

Nick and Jarrod headed out the front door.

"Do you know where he might have gone?" Jarrod asked as they hurried to the barn.

"Maybe," Nick said. "Maybe back to where Joey got killed yesterday. Heath's been really torn up about that. And you know when Mother finds out you just lied to Silas, you and I are both gonna pay for it big time."

"I know," Jarrod said. "Won't be the first time and won't be the last. The important thing is to make sure Heath comes home with us to see us get reamed out."

They saddled their horses fast and were off within minutes.

They rode hard to the place where Joey Cabot had been killed the day before, and sure enough, there was Heath, on his horse, right at the top of the ridge and as visible as Moses on Mt. Sinai. When they spotted him, they both urged their horses on even faster, and they rode up beside him, flanking him protectively, Nick on his left, Jarrod on his right.

"What they hell is the matter with you?" Nick yelled. "Are you trying to get killed today?"

"I'm trying to lure this murderer out in the open," Heath growled. "I want him, and I want him today, and neither one of you is gonna stop me from getting him."

"Heath, use your head," Jarrod said. "If he were to hit you alone up here, he'd be gone again and we'd never find him."

"I ain't planning to get hit – I'm planning to do the hitting!" Heath yelled.

"You're lucky he hasn't already shot your head off!" Nick had at him. "Get down of this ridge or I might shoot you myself!"

"Nick, calm down," Jarrod said. "Heath, we've got to get down from here right now. We will get this guy, but we're not gonna give him another target he can take out. We're not gonna let anybody else die. Now come on, the both of you, and let's get down near those rocks."

Heath glared at his oldest brother, but Jarrod gave it right back.

"Don't make me grab that lead away from you," Jarrod said.

"Don't you lead me around by the nose, Jarrod," Heath said right back.

Jarrod grabbed for the lead, and Heath's horse shifted.

They heard the shot. It hit a rock nearby, but it wouldn't have if Heath's horse hadn't shifted. It would have hit Heath right in the back.

They all rode hard down off the ridge and toward the protection of the rocks below. They dismounted, taking their rifles, and took cover, looking in the direction the shot had come from. They looked hard, looking for sunlight off a rifle or anything else that might have been reflective.

"I see him," Heath said quietly, pointing up on the ridge in a clump of trees, behind where they had been a moment before.

Only Nick was close enough to hear him. "Where?"

Heath pointed and aimed his rifle very carefully. He pulled the trigger.

The barrel of the rifle flashed as it jerked through the sunlight. They couldn't tell if Heath had hit him or if he was just getting out of the way. Heath took another shot.

And then everything was quiet.

Jarrod scrambled over to his brothers from the cover he had taken about twenty feet away. "Did you hit him?"

"I don't know," Heath said. "If I didn't and he's took off, he won't come at me here again, that's for sure. You should have let me take care of this."

"You'd be dead," Nick said flatly. "We'd have found your corpse and nothing else."

"If he's still up there and still able to shoot, we may all be corpses in the next few minutes," Heath said.

They looked very carefully again, but they couldn't see anything up there anymore. He could have been gone, or could have been hiding himself better and waiting for them to come to him.

"Listen," Nick said. "Why don't I head up to the right here and up to the top of the ridge, in those trees on the right? Jarrod, you move to the left, past those rocks you just came from and over to that downed tree about twenty yards away over there. Heath, you stay here, and when I get up there, I'll take a couple more shots. The two of you can look for muzzle flash coming at me, and one of you are likely to hit him."

"Before or after he hits you?" Heath asked. "I'm going up there, Nick. You're staying here."

"Heath, don't argue with me – "

Heath took off before Nick or Jarrod could stop him.

"I'm gonna kill that boy myself," Nick growled.

"I hope you get the chance," Jarrod said, and as he headed off to the fallen tree to his left, he said, "Cover me if I need it."

He didn't need it. In only a few seconds, Jarrod was in position. Neither he nor Nick could see where Heath was but assumed he was headed to the top of the ridge, where Nick had intended to go. Nick and Jarrod both took aim at the clump of trees where the earlier firing had come from, but Nick kept an eye out for Heath firing from the right when he got into position.

Heath had farther to go and it took a good two minutes before Jarrod and Nick heard his firing. Nick saw it as well and wasn't looking in time to see the flash of gunfire coming from the clump of trees, aimed Heath's way. Jarrod saw it, though, and took two shots at it. Again, the flash of light against the barrel of a rifle pulled out of sight. This time, Heath started running toward it.

In the open. "Jesus – " Nick swore to himself and fired at the trees Heath was heading for, to cover him.

Jarrod started moving up the ridge from his position. Nick could now see that both Heath and Jarrod were moving toward the trees where the gunfire had come from.

And there was no more gunfire. Nick saw Heath and then Jarrod get lost in the trees. There still was no gunfire.

"Nick!" Jarrod's voice called, and he saw Jarrod waving his arm down to him. "Come on up! It's over!"

Nick hurried up the ridge and found both his brothers standing over a third man. "Oh, don't tell me he's dead," Nick moaned.

Jarrod just nodded.

Heath looked down at the man who had been trying to kill him and who had killed Joey Cabot. Part of him was happy to see him dead – dead for Joey, even though they really had no proof this was the man who had killed Joey. But part of him was still angry – he wanted to confront the man alive, for Joey.

Nick and Jarrod looked at each other, each thinking the same unhappy thought. They were only assuming he was the only man who had been trying to kill Heath. There was always the chance there was more than one man at work here.

It was Nick who heaved the sigh. Jarrod bent down and searched the man's pockets for identification. There wasn't any.

"We'd better get him into town," Jarrod said. Then he looked at his youngest brother. "Are you all right, Heath?"

Heath nodded without looking up from the man's body. "Wish we'd have caught him two days ago," he said.

Joey would still be alive.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

There were two burials at the cemetery in town the next day. The man the Barkley brothers had killed was buried without fanfare, without mourners, in a pine box in a far corner of the graveyard with no headstone. Joey Cabot was buried with all of the Barkleys and all of their hired hands who could be spared from riding herd in attendance.

Many of the big, strong men were unashamed to be shedding tears. Heath was among them. This wasn't the first time an innocent had been killed by someone aiming for him, but this time it hurt worse than usual. Maybe because he hadn't gotten the chance to strangle the killer himself. Maybe more like because he hadn't been able to say into the man's face that he'd killed a poor kid who just got in the way. Even if that wouldn't have made any difference to the killer, whoever he was, Heath wanted to be able to spit it in the man's face. He really had wanted that.

Heath's family stayed with him after the services were completed and the hired hands wandered away. Heath still stood looking down at the fresh earth and the simple stone cross that marked the end of Joey Cabot's short life. Jarrod gave his mother and sister a glance that suggested they go on to the buggy, and they did. He and Nick stayed with Heath.

"I wanted him to know what he was paying for," Heath said quietly, and his brothers knew he was talking about the hired killer. "I don't care if he didn't feel anything about it. I still wanted him to know."

"If there's a God above, he knows, Heath," Jarrod said.

Heath nodded. "Guess I have to settle for that."

"We'll still need to keep our eyes open, keep a guard on all of us," Nick said. "We don't know if this guy was acting alone."

Heath nodded again. "My bet is he was, but yeah, we need to be sure that Mother and Audra are safe."

Nick put a hand on Heath's shoulder. "At least we do have a name to work with – Agatha Cromwell."

"Wish we had more. All we really have is her name, and her husband's, Alexander Carpenter. But we'll get her, Heath," Jarrod said. "And legally, we can make her pay for Joey Cabot, if she hired whoever this gunman was."

"Then we'll make her pay," Heath said. He never had taken his eyes off Joey's grave, and he said softly, "We'll make her pay for you, Joey. I promise you that."

THE END

(for now…)


End file.
